


Objects In The Rearview Mirror

by sturmwindkind



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Miles is a softie, Pain, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, pardon my english
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sturmwindkind/pseuds/sturmwindkind
Summary: While the station prepares for an upcoming fair, Ziyal is haunted by her past. She would love to open up, yet she struggles to explain the anger and sadness she feels. Despite his ambiguous feelings towards Cardassians, Miles O'Brien tries to console her.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks, welcome!  
> This is my first fic here and my first fic in English, too. If you notice any mistakes, please let me know! I'm willing to learn, I promise. Also, I don't quite know where this is headed. I do have a rough idea, but I'm one of those writers who make things up as they go by. Sorry! I hope this will have a direction soon.  
> Quick warning: I do know already that this fic will touch a serious topic or two (Setlik III may play a role). I'll try my best to mention them at the beginning of each chapter. But there won't be any sexually explicit content.
> 
> Have fun and please bear with me! :-)

Miles put the tools back into his bag. How come, he wondered, that every day that there’s neither a transporter to fix nor a turbolift stuck somewhere like some old and dusty technology from the twentieth century, the most annoying Ferengi in the galaxy will give him a ring and ask to come to the bar?  
“Nog!” shouted Quark from across the room. “Why don’t you come up here and do something useful? No real Ferengi has ever earned himself a bar of gold-pressed latinum by doing that useless hu-man stuff.”  
Before the boy could even begin to answer, Miles turned around swiftly, throwing a protective glance over to Quark. “Well”, he said, “if this ‘hu-man’ stuff is so useless, old friend, why did you call me here in the first place? Tell me, do YOU know how to repair these conduits? Have you spent weeks and month studying Cardassian technology in order to get this station running?”  
Slightly uncomfortable, but nonetheless still a business man through and through, Quark cautiously put his bottle of Tarangian Ale down, trying not to confuse his guests with this little conversation of his.  
“My dear Chief” he said, unknowingly quoting his most-hated customer, while making his way through the casino, “I do in fact know a bit about Cardassian technology myself. But as you can see¬-“ Quark gestured vividly “this place is as crowded as ever. Who am I to neglect my customers’ needs in order to indulge myself into this kind of work?”  
“Well played, uncle!” chuckled to Nog unexpectedly.  
Quark nodded, then turned around to check on his Dabo guests. “Is everyone having a good time filling my pockets?” he laughed humorously.  
The Chief and his assistant stood up, reattaching the insulation and the cladding to the upper right corner of the wall. Despite Quark being such a ungrateful comrade, they were quite satisfied with their work. The young Ferengi checked their assignments for the day- and was delightfully surprised to find out that they were supposed to check on one of the arboretums. Other than his best friend Jake, and most of all- unlike his fellow Ferengis- he silently enjoyed being around plants. They do not ask stupid questions, they do not try to betray you, they do not complain about benchmarks not being met. Plants were mostly quiet fellows that did not mess with your mood. Although, he thought to himself on the way to the next workplace, Miles and Keiko would probably not concur in his little opinion.

“I’m not sure why you’ve got to be so hard on them.” Said Ziyal, finishing all her root beer in one swing. “They’re neither rude nor are they lazy. You gave them an assignment, they finished it without complaining.” She ordered another round.  
“Oh I’m sorry. Did I ask you to evaluate on this topic?” Quark gave her a warning glance, knowing that she wouldn’t shut up about this. Maybe, he thought to himself, he should have started trading with antiques. They certainly do not talk as much, and with the station being a cultural crossroads, he could make a good deal or two. He quickly scribbled this idea onto an old receipt a customer had left on a table, and grabbed the beer.  
“I certainly didn’t. But I can’t stand barkeepers who fail to be good host, too.”  
He stopped mid-motion. “Are you trying to say that-“  
Ziyal looked him right in the eye.  
“That your entertainment qualities leave much to be desired? Yes.”  
The young woman swallowed yet another glass of beer in one swing. Without another word, she stood up and left the place, leaving Quark puzzled and a little bit insulted.  
“What a girl.” He whispered under his breath.  
“What a girl.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tears filling her eyes, Ziyal speeded up her steps. She did not mind showing emotions, but her Cardassian heritage as well as the other creatures on this station never failed to tell her otherwise. For her, it felt like home, but at the same time, it did not. Every time she tried to show a little comradery, every time that she tried to socialize, she seemed to fail. Not that socializing with that pesky Ferengi barkeeper was her top priority, but chatting with HIM seemed to be better than being alone all the time.  
She stopped in front of Garak’s shop, trying to come up with an excuse to talk to him, but he was busy selling a customer a new suit. “I assume this a very bold choice, Sir, but I as much as I admire statement colours, this red silk will probably not look too flattering on your green skin. Do you mind taking a closer look at this elegant fabric?”  
He never stopped working. Ziyal knew why, but it still hurt. After all, he was the only other Cardassian on Deep Space Nine. He and Garak, they were very much alike and yet very different from each other. She missed having dinner with him and Julian. She missed having deep conversations and little bitter-sweet heartache every time they said goodbye. Now, with the fair approaching, and the guests and politicians arriving at the station, Garak did not even have a second to spare for a chat. She knew. She had asked him.  
As the tailor simply went on with details about cuts and threads and beads and buttons, Ziyal felt a sting in her chest once more. She loved him dearly, but in which way? That she did not know for sure.  
Passing the Klingon restaurant, she thought about making an appointment with counselor Jao, but she quickly let that thought pass by. Mrs. Jao had been pretty helpful so far, but she wasn’t the kind of person to bother with this topic. Having been born to loving, wealthy parents, the counselor had grown up on a rather peaceful little planet in the alpha quadrant, knowing of no war, no sorrow until joining Starfleet.  
Ziyal would have opened up to Nerys, her emotional rock. But then again, Nerys was on duty, and even worse, she was on a mission right now. And the Cardassian women knew that she shouldn’t call her unless there was a fatal emergency on the station.  
Suddenly, her feeling of anxiety began to surge. All around her, she saw faces, shadows, grimaces. Invisible hands were touching her body. The station felt too crowded, too loud, too close and yet not close enough. Ziyal did not know what was happening. Her chest pain intensified quickly, spreading over her whole body. “Dear…” she rattled, slamming her fist against her body.  
Ziyal couldn’t stand the noise one more minute. She moved towards the next door, only to bump into a very puzzled Chief O’Brien. Without thinking about it twice, he grabbed the young woman by her shoulders.  
“Blimey, are you sure Quark gave you root beer?”  
She nodded, and Miles guided her to a bench in the arboretum. Letting out a sigh of relief, she sat down. “Nog, I think we’re done for today. Thanks for your help.”  
The Ferengi did not say a word, and left immediately.  
Miles and Ziyal did not have a very close relationship, but after all he had seen, heard, and done, Miles would have been the last one to leave someone behind. Even if it was a Cardassian woman. But before he could tap his communicator and ask for medical help, Ziyal began crying.  
Miles felt that this would take more than just five minutes. Softly squeezing her hand- he had never had the courage or the confidence to console others- he pulled out a spare cheese sandwich with his other hand, offering it to the Ziyal.  
She did not bother, so he put it back.  
“You know”, he began, nervously rubbing his neck, “my wife Keiko is very fond of this place. I mean, of course she is, considering her job. She admires the quietness of it all. The beauty. When she is anxious, she enjoys the company of the plans.” Miles chuckled.  
“I, for one, can’t stand plants. I always need action; I need motion and a good a fight from time to time. That is how I relax. How about you?”  
While he was talking, he had completely forgotten about Ziyal’s being uneasy. “Oh dear, I’m such an idiot. Is there anything I can do?”  
She shook her head.  
“It’s nice not being around people.” She whispered. “Don’t you think? People are always talking, always trying to convince you of something. Plants don’t.”  
Miles shrugged his shoulders.  
“Well, you’re still with people, you’re with ME.” He said, leaning his head back a bit further.  
“You’re different.”  
“How so?” he asked.  
Ziyal straightened her back a bit, directly looking him in the eye. Her eyes were still full of tears and her vision blurred, but she finally began to feel herself again. She blinked. Miles blinked, too. For a tiny moment, there was nothing to be heard except the artificial stream behind them. “You may be a bit too chatty, but at least you’re friendly. You’re helpful and nice to be around.”  
Miles chuckled nervously. He wasn’t sure what was happening, so he did not respond to this unexpected compliment. He turned away and pretended to study a strange looking blue-ish tree next to him. “You’re kind, intelligent, and soft!”  
“I’m not soft!” he shouted louder than intended, swiftly turning around. At the sound of his voice, the young woman jumped from her seat immediately, clenching her hands to her chest. She looked scared.  
“Look, Ziyal, I’m sorry, I did not mean to shout. You hear me? Please do sit down again.”  
Still, she was trembling and not willing to sit down next to Miles. Instead, she awkwardly sat down on the path facing the Chief directly. “What is it with you men always being so aggressive?” she murmured.  
He shuddered. Suddenly, he remembered Nerys telling him about Ziyal not feeling safe on either Cardassian or Bajoran territory. Her being some kind of prisoner. Not knowing exactly what to do next, he slid off of the bench, also sitting down on the cool, hard floor. He was surprised to find out it was feeling rather nice.  
“Ziyal”, he said, cautiously reaching out, “If there’s anything you would like to talk about, I’m here. I mean, honestly, I’m not much of a good listener, but I’m here. You can talk to me, or a counselor, at any time. Do you understand?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN / TW: anxiety, suicide (mentioned)

“You’re not alone.”  
His words still echoed in Ziyal’s mind, O’Briens smile haunting her. She did not know why this exact moment resonated with her this much. Hearing kind words did not feel as good as she would have thought. Back when she had been a prisoner, she would have died to her something like this, even if it would have been a lie. But right now, all she felt was emptiness.  
As her eyes wandered around her empty quarters, Ziyal could not help but wonder how she could make these rooms a home. How could this station be a home to anyone? If she knew how colors and patterns worked, Ziyal would have bought a few artworks or vases or sculptures, because that’s what other people have in their quarters. She remembered Garak passionately talking about literature and art, which always sounded very complicated and sophisticated to her. But she did not understand much.  
Finally allowing herself to relax a bit, she let herself fall unto the bed. All around her was silence. No shadows, no hands, no noise. Sometimes she’d muse about whether any of the other creatures on the station felt similar things. Now, if someone read the word “sky” for example, what would a Ferengi picture, and what would a Cardassian see before their eyes? What would a real Cardassian like Garak see?  
Ziyal closed her eyes and thought about going to see Dr. Bashir to seek counselling, since she was able to admit that she did in fact need help with her feelings, but was not ready to talk to Counselor Jao about it. Maybe Julian could prescribe her something to numb the pain and the memories, allowing her mind and body to rest a litte.  
On the other hand, Ziyal thought, what if he’s silently judging her or, even worse, what if he tells Nerys about her? Their conversations would be confidential of course, but she had heard that Julian could break the confidentiality between doctor and patient if he found it necessary or at least advisable. She could not help but wonder about it. She started wondering about it intensely. What would I do, she thought, if he’d use my trust and make me do things I’m not willing to do? What if, after all, he’ll hurt me eventually, like they all do? Is this all I’m good for? Being promised comfort and help and consolation, just to experience pain again? No, he would never do such things. He's a Starfleet doctor, after all, he’s probably never hurt someone intently.  
Ziyal closed her eyes, forcing the tears of self-hatred out. She both loved and hated the feeling of warm tears running down her face. It felt like a good pouring rain gently washing the fear from her body.  
Nonetheless she did not stop wondering why she would have such thoughts about people hurting her, when, in the end, it was all she wanted. She did not want people to harm her, she wanted to stop the violence, the aggression, the hurt. But after all, why did she fantasize about trusty people breaking her trust? Why couldn’t she get rid of Chief O’Brian’s smile in the arboretum, and at the same time, she couldn’t forget his loud, nasty voice after she had called him soft? She felt as if heavy rocks were covering her, forcing her to stay on the bed. Although she tried to focus as much as possible, she could barely move a finger.  
Anxiously, she waited for this feeling to pass, but it didn’t.  
Finally, she gave in and called for help.  
“Computer, call Dr. Bashir. Medical emergency.”

A few minutes later, she heard someone overriding the quarters’ security lock. It was Julian. “Ziyal, what’s wrong? I came here as soon as possible.” he panted as he entered the room, surprised to find Ziyal lying on her bed.  
Although she did expect him, she started bawling loudly at the sound of his voice. Julian, despite not knowing what exactly was happening here, quickly grabbed a hypospray and gave the troubled young woman a mild tranquilizer. When he softly touched her shoulder, Ziyal sighed. Once again, he asked: “What’s wrong?”  
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you, Doctor?” she whispered weakly. Julian looked at her with his big brown eyes, partly puzzled, partly understanding.  
“Do you expect me to hurt someone who calls for help?”  
The young woman turned her head, as she could not stand looking at him.  
“I’m having… troubling thoughts.”  
He knelt down in front of the bed, his hand still resting on her shoulder. He’s been through conversations like this multiple times, but it’s never gotten any easier.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
Ziyal remained silent.  
“Have you been experiencing suicidal thoughts?”  
She shook her head.  
“Then what are thinking about that’s causing you so much pain? If you cannot talk about it, that is alright. You could write it down, too. I can wait.”  
Finally, Ziyal grabbed his hand. Julian was surprised at first, but he let it happen anyway. He smiled and came a bit closer. He could feel his heart beating faster, as Ziyal looked in his direction again.  
“Sometimes, when I consider looking for help, I feel like everyone’s going to hurt me in the end. I feel like I don’t deserve a soft touch or kind words. Everyone could be a traitor. And, if I think about it long enough, I’m convinced that I deserve to feel this way. That I need to, that I actually want to be hurt. Physically or emotionally, I don’t care. I fantasize about it, even.”  
After hearing this, Julian lowered his eyes, but not his hand. After all, Ziyal was still holding onto him. Genetically enhanced or not, these situations always felt like a first time. He’d never gotten used to it. How he wished there’d be an easy cure for this, but no matter who felt this way, no matter the species, there never seemed to be a quick solution. It would always be a long-term treatment.  
“Do you have vision of me hurting you, too?”  
Ziyal’s body trembled as she nodded. She felt as if she was going to throw up, like cold water was running down her back, but at the same time, she felt like running away. Eventually, she burped, then coughed. The redness of her face was alarming.  
“Please Doctor, I don’t want this either. But somehow, I do. I have seen you giving me a slap in the face. I have seen you breaking my trust, I have seen you grabbing me by my shoulders. I can’t help it. I want this to be over. Don’t take this personally, please. I need to feel broken, or else I will die.”  
“Can’t you see that you are already broken, Ziyal?” he whispered under his breath. “Listen to me. Whatever it is that is haunting you, you will get over it. It’s not worth dying for. I promise, if you’ll let me take you to infirmary, things will get better. No-one on this station is going to harm you. Neither I nor Miles. And you do know very well that you don’t deserve this pain. Now, will you come with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> Quick but important reminder:  
> if you ever feel hurt or experience anxiety symptoms, if you find yourself alone, hurting, or suicidal, please do reach out. There are people who are going to help you.  
> If you want to talk about anything, please do not hesitate to contact me. I'll listen.
> 
> If you find my fic troubling, please also consider not reading any further. I want you to feel safe.


	4. Chapter 4

When he finally arrived, Julian gave Miles a very telling look. They both sat down, put hands on their glasses of synthehol, not knowing what to do or say.  
“Now what’s this, a funeral?” said Quark as unaffected as ever, pouring kanaar for another guest of his. “Do me a personal favor and cheer up a bit before this sulkiness spreads like a virus. Don’t ruin my evening.”   
Neither Miles nor Julian reacted to his provocation. This was one of the times they wished that there was some other, quieter place to discuss this topic while having a drink. Of course, there’s still the Klingon restaurant, but even Commander Worf would admit that their drinks aren’t the stuff you want to drink after a long, hard day that has sucked all of the joy out of your mind and body. It’s been a day like this.  
Julian had spent quite a few hours in the infirmary, mostly checking ambassadors and fair guests. But from time to time, he could not help but pay a visit to the restricted area, where Ziyal was recovering from her major anxiety attack. The nurses had done a good job decorating her room, although it’s been an unusual task for them. Normally, they hand depressed patients their medication and tell them to take some time off work.  
Ziyal’s treatment however, was different. Doctor’s orders. She was safe and sound, and she knew. Julian would drop by, giving her a warm smile, holding her hand for a while. “You look exhausted, Doctor.”  
“Oh dear, the infirmary is a little messy, that’s all. We have a lot of guests arriving, and Captain Sisko ordered me to do a medical check-up on every single one of them. But that should not worry you.”  
Ziyal got up and rubbed her neck a bit. Julian felt that he ought to say something about her condition, but he struggled to find the right words. This was a most sensitive topic. Not sure to do next, he simply sat down next to her bed.   
“Is there anything you would like to talk about right now?” he asked gently, looking down to the floor. After their conversation the night before, he felt slightly uncomfortable next to Ziyal. Her trauma must run deep, he assumed, if she struggles to let other people be kind towards her. “May I ask, what did your dreams look like last night?”  
The young woman side-eyed him, not sure how to answer this question. Julian sensed that there were pictures in her head she could not explain, or simply did not want to. He saw her trying to move her lips, but there was not a single sound to be heard. She tried to speak once again, and failed. Obstructed speech, Julian thought. A Classic.  
“So she can’t talk about it, Julian?”  
“Obviously not. A little chat seems to be okay, but as soon as it is getting serious, she’s silent. I can only try to imagine what she’s feeling.”  
“Then why don’t you give her a PADD? Maybe you’ll get some information out of her if you’ll allow her to write it all down.”  
Julian emptied his glass and turned around to look at his best friend. He let out a heavy sigh, then he answered: “I already asked her if she would like to write it down. But she did not answer. Honestly, Miles, please don’t tell anyone, but I feel pretty helpless. I’ve read all about trauma response, yet I can’t seem to find a way to help Ziyal.”  
Miles gave him an knowing smile and pat his back.   
“Have Garak ask her.”

He would not have admitted it, but as he held the young woman close to his chest, Garak did have a lot feelings. Of course, he did not want to be here with her, but he had promised Julian to stay with her in case something happens. He held her, as her body trembled and anything she said was distorted by the immeasurable number of tears and fears she had to bear. “My dear, will you please pull yourself together?” he whispered gently, but Ziyal did not respond. Julian quickly grabbed the PADD that was lying on the bed next to the two Cardassians. He exchanged a quick look with Garak and then left the scene.  
“I wish I was as fearless as you.” She murmured once had managed to calm down a bit.  
Garak chuckled.   
“Don’t mistake my masquerade for fearlessness. Working for the Obsidian Order did things to me you couldn’t fathom. I have done things that still haunt me to this day, my dear Ziyal. I have killed the helpless and I have betrayed friends. These… demons are all I have left of my life on Cardassia.”   
“So you learned to control them?” Ziyal left Garaks embrace and looked up to him.   
He was not quite sure what sort of emotion he read on her face. Admiration? Yes. But there was something strange about her dusty eyes. He side-eyed the door to make sure that Julian had actually them both alone, then he gently put both his hands to her cheeks. She closed her eyes, probably thinking he would want to kiss her. Of course he didn’t. Garak sensed that Ziyal loved him, yet he did not know how to address it sensitively. He would have liked to show some genuine affection, but how do you show affection for your worst enemy’s daughter? He gently stroked her face with his thumbs, smiling.  
“Ziyal.” He whispered, hoping nobody would see him this vulnerable. Especially not Julian. “My dear Ziyal. You are worthy of love and comfort. But you know, if you do not open up, it will be very hard for you to resist your demons. Let Julian help you. And please-“   
While he was still speaking, the young woman opened her eyes again, drawing even nearer to his face. “And please don’t you kiss me.” Garak let go of the young woman and stumbled backwards. “Ziyal, don’t you dare!”


	5. Chapter 5

“I’ve always felt nobody in this galaxy had to bear more emotions that I do. I’ve always been a cheerful person, I guess, and I loved being in good company. But as you probably know, being imprisoned does change you. Like, a lot. Now, I still like being around others, but I can not connect as easily as I could back then.  
When you’re young and in captivity, you learn to obey, you learn to hide. That’s what they say. Actually, I did learn to obey, but I never managed to hide my thoughts. I think I got it from my mother, who was a very lovely, very honest person. She had a strong sense of justice.  
You asked me to tell me how I feel about being on this station, and to be honest, I can not stand it. Not having a place to call home, not know even understanding the concept of it, I feel like a stranger just passing this place by accident. Quark’s is too loud, the gallery is too narrow although it’s such a wide place, my quarters are as empty as my heart.  
Have you ever felt lost with nowhere to go and no friendly face to say hello to? I know what you would respond if I told you this in person.   
“We’re all here for you.”  
And yes, physically speaking, you are here. But it feels like I don’t have a connection to anybody on Deep Space Nine. Most people here are friendly indeed, but I’m never quite sure if they’re just being polite or if they actually do care. Nerys does care, I know. But you, Doctor, you are basically just doing your job. Chief O’Brien has probably helped just because he couldn’t have left me alone after I ran into him by chance. In my mind, it’s just a masquerade. And I know I’m mistaken. It’s just how I feel.”

Here, Julian stopped reading and looked up. His patient still sat vis-à-vis, not moving, not uttering any sound or word of any kind. She just looked at the floor, unable to look into his face. The doctor sighed, lowering the PADD.  
“I do have a question concerning your feelings toward the station and the people here, if you don’t mind.” Letting out little sigh, Ziyal nodded to signal her consent.  
“Alright. And before we actually start, thank you for being here. A lot of patients get cold feet and simply don’t show. So…” he quickly checked the notes he had prepared before the session.  
“In your text you’re saying that you don’t feel comfortable around others. Do you think that at the bottom of it all, it’s because you’re basically the only Cardassian on here?”  
Once again, she nodded, typing on her own PADD. After a little while, she transferred the message to Bashir’s device.   
“Yes. I’m different from everyone else. – Well, Ziyal, we’re all a little different. That’s completely normal. And, even better, we all have the incredible opportunity to learn from one another because of our differences.”  
“You know what I mean”, she typed, “I don’t even have work to do. The days just pass by. I wish I had something to look forward to expect having lunch or dinner with Garak.”   
For a brief moment, she stopped typing, as if she was trying to decide on how to go on. Julian observed her body language. Her posture was a bit crunched, both arms held the PADD very close while she was figuring out what else to say. Ziyal’s face showed traces of insecurity, as it always did, but it also showed a little spark of light for the first time in quite a few days or weeks even. When his patient finally confirmed the message, Julian decided to give it a try.  
“What do you think about Garak?” he asked directly with the gentlest smile he could come up with despite the striking sense of sadness that was filling the room in this particular situation. Ziyal reacted rapidly, covering half of her face with one hand. Maybe, Julian thought, he should not have asked her. Maybe it’s too soon to talk about what has happened in the infirmary.   
Suddenly, Ziyal slammed her PADD on the floor, directly looking into his eyes. Again, she’s was crying, silently.  
“He told you?” she asked, noticeably hurt, with her voice almost cracking.  
“Of course he did not, Ziyal.” Julian answered as calm as ever, although he was rather surprised of this sudden outburst. He tried not to infuriate any further.  
“Then how do you know about it?”  
“A nurse told me. Now, I understand that you’re hurt. But I can assure you that I haven’t even talked to Garak about it, although we see each other daily.” The Cardassian closed her eyes, while Julian was speaking, but she did not listen. Instead, she mumbled something to herself.   
“Of course, Garak would not mention it. You know that keeps most of his thoughts and emotions to himself, at least, when it comes to the real ones. I do take away from our” – he had to look for the right words for a second- “from our general situation that you’ve grown to be very fond of the man that has a rather complicated relationship with your father. Now, it’s probably tricky for you to have a stable, healthy relationship with both Garak and your father. Is that true? Please do correct me if I’m mistaken! Ziyal!”  
Upon hearing her name, she finally opened her eyes, getting back into the situation again. Apparently, she had managed to calm herself down a bit.  
“I admire him deeply.”  
“Your father.”  
“Garak.”  
“In what way, may I ask?”  
Picking up the PADD again, she said “It’s complicated, Doctor.”, and typed her next message.  
“I love him. When I’m with Garak, it’s like I’m with a family member. He seems to understand me in every way possible. Ever since I’ve first talked to him, I felt like I finally had someone to look up to. A lot of people say that he has a despicable, rotten personality, but to me, he is the kindest creature. When he enters the room, it’s suddenly not as cold and disturbingly bright as before. When Garak is around, I feel light, I feel afloat, in a way.” And indeed, while Ziyal was typing, her face lit up like all sorrow was lifted off of her shoulders within the blink of an eye. Julian had a hard time not commenting on it.  
“So… please, Ziyal, what I’m taking away from your answer, is that you are in love with him. Is that right?” – She nodded, then went on typing:  
“But at the same time, I know that it’s wrong. I’m so drawn towards him. Seeing him brightens my day so much, I almost obsessivly try to catch a glimpse of him every time that I’m on the gallery. It’s a weird feeling because”- she stopped in the middle of the sentence, yet she transferred the message to Julian.  
He hesitated.  
“If you don’t want to talk about, we can take a break.”  
Ziyal put her PADD down distinctly soft.  
“Because he’s also like a father to me.”


End file.
